would become homeless. She only knew that your mother had made you promise never to ask anyone for help.”
I looked at him.
“How do you know that?”
“It’s in the letter.”
My heart sank.
“My mother wrote that?”
“She told Claire you would rather go without than accept a debt you couldn’t repay.”
A bitter laugh escaped me.
“That sounds like her.”
“Claire wrote that Margaret was proud, but pride had become another kind of prison.”
I watched snow gather on the side mirror.
“Maybe she was right.”
“About
